


On The Worst Day

by erykah101



Series: A Series of Improbable Events [6]
Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 11:53:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3568652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erykah101/pseuds/erykah101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tale of love and friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On The Worst Day

**Author's Note:**

> Continuity: This comes sometime after Hello!

The first email was sent on a very ordinary Thursday afternoon.

Actually… that wasn’t when it started. It was after the party…

The Bartlet’s were throwing a party. It was a fundraiser for the National Multiple Sclerosis Society. As good a cause as that is, that’s not why everyone went. They went because the Bartlet’s were throwing a party…

Josh and Donna seemed to be on a different planet to everyone else that night. They were dancing. While everyone else talked politics; the Lyman’s spent the night dancing. Truth be told, they weren’t that good, but the sheer joyfulness of their relentless attempt to take the night off lit up the room. Even as the numbers dwindled, they never left the dance floor…

"Are you two done?” Jed finally asked them. Josh spun Donna around one last time and they broke apart grinning. “I think the band wants to go home.” 

They turned and - with much theatricality - thanked the band. 

Maybe it was because he hoped their joy would rub off on him that Jed decided to invite them to the kitchen to see if they could rustle up some ice cream. 

Which was how they ended up with Jed and Donna at the kitchen table talking about nightingales, while Josh sat on a counter watching them with a strange expression on his face.

This is where I come in. 

“Is he boring her by going on about nightingales?” I asked as I walked up to him. “He’s been talking about them all day.” 

He turned to look me. 

“No.” He mused, that strange look still on his face. “I think she’s enjoying it!” 

\--

The first email was sent on a very ordinary Thursday afternoon and it, understandably, took Donna by surprise. The subject line just said ‘Interesting’ but the sender was what left her staring at her screen wide-eyed. 

He’d rambled for a while and then added a dozen links, and a couple of photos. She found herself reading and following the links, but her finger hovered over hitting the mouse button to reply for quite a long time. 

Finally she did and said: 

_Very interesting but I have a few questions…_

And just like that, a conversation started. 

\--

Months later, we invited them to up Manchester for Thanksgiving. It was going to be just us, Zoey and Charlie, so it was nice when they agreed. 

His conversations with Donna seemed to be having a positive effect on him, so they were something I encouraged. His health was getting worse, so anything that gave him joy and kept him with us was something I wanted to encourage. 

Everyone pitched in with the preparations, and it was the most fun we’d had in this place in years. But watching my husband over dinner, as the youngsters bickered over politics around him, and even though I saw him smile, I think I knew then that we were heading towards the end. 

After dinner we sat around the fire, and Donna insisted on helping him toast marshmallows. She helped him without a moment’s when his hands weren’t strong enough to the hold the skewers. Zoey and Charlie were sat, snuggling, together on the couch. Josh sat in a chair near me and I caught that expression on his face again. 

“I never realised they were so much alike.” He told me. “They email and talk all the time! Share all this useless information about everything.” 

“Do you mind?” I asked him. 

“Mind?! No.” He replied. 

“I meant that she’s like him.” 

And he just looked at me. 

“No.” He smiled. 

\--

The night drew on, and Zoey and Charlie went to bed. 

The four of us sat around and talked about the world. We talked about the past and hopes for the future. They’d been talking about kids, but were worried about bringing them into the crazy world of the White House. Donna joked about turning the Mural Room into a crèche, and Jed said why not! 

Josh eventually fell asleep in his chair. I dozed but kept listening. It was nice listening to them. 

She sat on a footstool by his feet, with her head on the arm of his chair and she spoke about her fear of taking time out to be a mother. Of being cliché. Of giving up her mind to be a mom. 

He told her not to worry, that she could be both. She didn’t have to choose. That she could use that time to get ready for what would come after. He told her she could go back to college. She could be whatever she wanted. 

He told there were many ways to get ahead in politics. To be born into an old family, like he had. To do something that makes you insanely rich, and buy your way in. Or you could take the path that she’d taken, to come in with a passionate belief and work hard. Do the legwork, be real and the public will love you. 

She admitted that she’d joined the campaign, all those years ago, after hearing him speak. How her life had been going nowhere and a man had broken her heart. Then she’d heard him speak and she’d wanted to do something; to help him win. So she’d read up on the campaign and one name kept coming up. Josh Lyman. She knew nothing about him, except his name, but she knew that he was the one who was gonna help Jed win. So she went to find him and help him do that. 

Jed had laughed. He told that that was a very smart move. She’d laughed and replied that it had turned out to be an excellent move. 

With that she’d stood, gently woken her husband and pushed him - stating sleepily all the while that he hadn’t been asleep, he’d just closed his eyes for a minute – towards bed. She’d smiled back fondly at us and said “See you in morning.”

I helped Jed into his chair and he smiled at me. He told me how much he loved me. He told me how, reflected in Josh and Donna, he saw the good that he’d done in this world. He had his regrets but, when he looked at them, he was happy with what he was passing on and who it was going to. 

I wheeled him to bed and used the lift to help him get in. Then I curled up beside him and whispered that I loved him. 

The next morning, I screamed. His heart had given out in the night. And, as incredible as it seemed, he was gone. 

Josh and Donna were our strength that day. They organised everything, to make it as easy it could be ever for me and Zoey. They made the calls. They knew the drill. They did everything, so that I didn’t need to think. 

Days later we stood at Arlington, as the shots rang out, and as I looked at the two of them – as I looked at ALL of them - stood at the graveside, I didn’t just feel grief… I felt pride and love. 


End file.
